


Crescent-Shaped Mark

by singeramg



Category: British Actor RPF, DC Extended Universe, DCU
Genre: F/M, I know I am missing stuff, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Stockholm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singeramg/pseuds/singeramg
Summary: DARK FIC! You were his Soulmate. You just didn’t know it yet, and he is tired of waiting.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Reader, Dark Clark Kent/ Reader, Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 96





	Crescent-Shaped Mark

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this forever! At this point I just want to post it and get it over with. I decided to go the soulmate au! but not as traditional then I originally planned. Please read the warnings because this is a DARK FIC! Meant for 18+ readers and those with thick skin. If you are easily triggered please don’t read.

##  **Crescent- Shaped Soulmate:**

**  
**When he returned to the world of the living, many would be glad to see Superman alive and well after an era of Darkness following his death. He was a source of hope for so many but nobody had realized that the man who went down was not the same one who came back up. **  
**

He was not the man everyone thought he was. For the sake of the world and those that loved him he was a hero. A man you could count on when the line looked dark, and you honestly needed a hero. He was the one that many thought could just constantly rise above the normal and be extraordinary.

He wasn’t born with the soulmate words like humans. When he was younger it was explained away as his soulmate hadn’t been born at his time of birth, but he and his parents knew it had something to do with his heritage. When he finally got a chance to know where he came from, he realized his people viewed soulmates as a feeling. They did not need words to tell them what the heart knew. It was known upon being near them for too long, confirmed by skin to skin contact, only then does a matching mark appear on the couple to signify their bond. Kryptonians had the ability to impress upon their soulmates if the situation was dire, that could lead to their death. If it was life or death was when this was only supposed to be used. He was tired of waiting to touch you, to make you feel like he felt. It was kind of no but he was so tired.

Clark Kent had settled on the fact that he would never find that connection with someone. That was until the day he came across you.

He had been raised to be polite, kind and gentle. Respectful to all even when being disrespected himself. It was something about you though that broke all of that training and hard work. When he saw you for the first time. Heels clicking across the pavement as you went to work, he had to have you.

At first he was stumped on how to do it because you were a hard one to get to. He has to make you feel what he feels but you won’t give him the time of day. Nights out weren’t your thing, your working hours were unpredictable, and your movements were basic. So he settled for “bumping” into you at the grocery store. You were unimpressed by the farm boy charm. He tried the coffee shop you frequented, but you were almost like stone to blue eyes and dimples.

It had been a long day for you, the day you actually met Clark so you didn’t remember much of it. To your ire; you’d forgotten to take something out of the freezer to cook, and the more you thought about it; you didn’t have much to eat at your house so a quick trip to the grocer was in order.

You’d long since ditched heels and settled for comfortable shoes; looking at a sight in a black pencil skirt led to Chuck Taylors. You had never cared much for opinions any so here you were walking through the store one headphone in ear and walking and scurried away.

It only drove him to want you more and more.. So he waited even longer. He would listen as you came home, took a shower not caring if you used all the hot water if your day was particularly long. He unabashedly watched as you would touch yourself, choked off whimpers directed at no one.

You needed him.

You just don’t know it.

He just needed to show you.

You were his obsession and you didn’t have a clue that you attracted the attention of a superhero.

You’d been going about your daily life and to that effect blissfully unaware of your fate.

Maybe you should have been paying more attention.

***Flashback***

It had been a night of patrolling. Sitting on a rooftop and listening for trouble but the night had been surprisingly quiet. He hadn’t much to do now that Lois had found her soulmate during a story she had been working on overseas. He hadn’t been too bothered about how it had happened she had said something about a chance meeting in a cafe in Paris and she managed to run into the only American in the place and yadda, yadda, yadda. He honestly didn’t care anymore, they’d always known he wasn’t her soulmate and they were just meant to pass time, but nevertheless he didn’t like the feeling of blank space. Just because he didn’t have a soulmate didn’t mean he want a family, someone to love and protect, someone that knew all the sides of him so that he didn’t have to be alone in the world. He had his mother but it wasn’t the same, honestly she hadn’t been the same since his father died and he couldn’t put his burdens onto her. Plus, what he needed he definitely couldn’t and would show to his mother. Hell Lois had barely understood exactly what he was into so he kept it plain and Vanilla for her. Settling for mediocre companionship because it was easy.

He was adjusting to being alone again.

You’d been dumb enough to walk home at night alone. Despite Metropolis having been named one of the safest places on earth because of Superman’s appearance, it was well known he couldn’t be around 24/7 and it would have been crazy to expect him to be. You however had taken the chance. You were known by your friends to be the risk taker, the one to take a chance on a whim because unlike them you weren’t given a built in reason to live.

There was such a thing as soulmates. You were born with their first words to you etched onto your skin. Then again some people’s words appeared later in life as their soulmates were born, but you had never had them appear. You had resigned yourself to having one that passed before you and dreading if they were born at any point now. You would live alone before you undertook an age gap of 25 years. You do your best to find someone who was in the same boat as you because it wasn’t impossible to be happy that way.

Many found a partner that was also without soulmate words but you hadn’t been so lucky. At least not yet, so until you had something more important than missing your favorite TV show to live for then you got your risks in other ways but this was just plain stupid.

You’d been hanging out at a friends house, expecting to sleep there because anytime she had the bright idea to drink it was usually into a stupor and having just broken up with the latest mistake in your life you were down to lose a few hours drinking. You, however weren’t expecting her boyfriend of the moment to come over and once they drunkenly started pawing at each other you took it as your cue to leave.

Needless to say it was a bad idea because now here you were running for your life as numerous feet ran behind you, all jeering for a good time and you knew they meant you harm.

You run but trip over uneven concrete and you can’t get up before hands are on you lifting you up as you kick and fight. They pull you into a alleyway, someone holding their hand over your mouth, tightly enough that you become lightheaded and tears run down your face and they start yanking at your clothing, but before you were exposed, a loud crash sounds and you look up seeing a sight you’d never been so relieved to see in your life. The angry face of Superman fills your sight for a moment before your head is dropped painfully against the concrete as the one holding your head drops you in a futile attempt to get away, but Superman drops them all in a matter of moments…

**End Flashback**

It was too late to pay attention.

The smell of fresh clean linen wakes you first. Like the sheets you were on had been freshly laundered in the same brand you used at home, it was comforting but your head was pounding as you tried to make sense of the night before. The soreness in your limbs from over exertion had swirled and settled in your body. Your clothes were missing but you weren’t naked, a long plaid cool blue toned flannel shirt, and your undergarments still on You look to the left side seeing a few bottles of water on a nightstand, extremely thirsty you basically down the whole thing in one go. You hiss as you slide and get to your feet, the soft carpeting a contrast to the cheap type at your apartment which furthermore told you were not at home. You stumble into the attached bathroom and frown after a quick bathroom run you come back into the sparsely decorated room. You get more frightened as nothing looked recognizable and especially after last night’s events. What if they caught you?

You pull at the door handle and relief fills you slightly when it’s realized you could open it. You follow the smell of coffee and pots rattling. The sound of people and coffee sounded promising even if you had no clue where you were. You hoped you would at least get a cup even if you were doomed.

It seemed the space was wide and open, plenty of light, you followed the hallway until it led you to turn a corner and into a huge kitchen. Where you walk in a tall man with one of the strongest backs, with a crescent- shaped mark on the top of his right shoulder, you have ever seen cooking at a stove, desperately trying not to burn whatever he was cooking.

_“Please come in, make yourself comfortable. I poured you a coffee already.”_

A deeply masculine voice says to you without turning around which also surprises you and you thought you were being quiet. The kitchen bar has a steaming black mug at it, you pick it up after awkwardly climbing into the barstool so you don’t flash the muscular stranger, who you still weren’t sure was friend or foe. He seemingly notices that you were nervous about drinking something that you hadn’t seen made, so still focused on the meal he was making that he didn’t stop to give you a good look at his face.

_“I made that special for you. Make sure to tell me if I got it right.”_

Nervously, you pickup the mug and sniff. He begins laughing at the sound of your disbelieving tone.

_“I haven’t poisoned it you know.”_

_“No I don’t. Most men with good intentions don’t bring a woman they don’t know to a place they don’t know and apparently undress them. How do I know to trust you didn’t put anything in my coffee.”_

_“You don’t. But if it provides you any comfort, I didn’t. I have no need to drug you.”_

He finally turns toward you and smiles and you damn near fall out of your chair.

_“S…s You are…Superman.”_

_“Most days yes but please call me Kal-El or Clark. and you are Y/N L/N.”_

You were surprised some like him would know your name at all, you jaw is dropped, but yet you still managed to speak.

_“You know me?”_

_“ How could I not know you?”_

You look confused and slip back down from the chair. He sets on making plates of food as if his answer explained everything when in reality it only confused you more.

You believe he is acting strangely when he smiles at you before sitting the plates down at the dining room table.

_“ Come over here before your food gets cold.”_

You shuffle over to him, too discombobulated to do much of anything else. He waits for you to sit and pushes your chair into the table, then sits next to you, picking up his fork as if this was nothing strange.

_“Why do you know who I am?”_

_“Why wouldn’t I know the woman I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with?”_ He says this like this is the most normal thing in the world to say to someone. You know your eyes widen and Superman is not phased at all.

_“The rest of your life? Umm..Mr. Man…Ummm…Superman. I think I’ve got the wrong girl. I don’t have words…I don’t have a soulmate.”_

His blue eyes light up as he looks at you, so soft in your confusion. He clearly thinks it is adorable, and you think it’s odd.

_“It’s Kal and you do. It’s me. Kryptonian people are different, soulmates work differently than humans. We just know who our soulmates are and if you were Kryptonian like me you would feel our bond as strongly as I do.”_

You sit for a moment before sarcasm gets the best of you and you look him up and down pretending to take a serious perusal of him before a ‘hmmm’ leaves your mouth, and a is followed by a head shake when you feel absolutely nothing for him.

_“Nope. Nothing and that’s saying a lot because have you seen yourself… but seriously… I don’t think I am who you think I am.”_

Slips out of your mouth and the corner of his pulls up and you find it so strange to be sitting with Thee Superman as casually as possible while he discusses a future so casually. A future that you had no connection to nor had you ever asked for.

_“It will take time for our bond to develop on your end. The more time we spend together the more you will understand and feel it…”_

**1 month later…**

When he said you needed time to adjust you didn’t think that meant keeping you hostage in what he had deemed your new home. It became clear the longer you stayed here that the man everyone thought was good and kind, was truly unstable. You had your own room that you managed to get minimal amounts of sleep and even that was disturbing when you woke up to find him inside the room with you. He had a rule of no locked doors no matter how hard you tried to keep him from getting insightful furniture and whatever you could think of, he unsurprisingly found a way. He quickly shared who he was with you when he wasn’t being Superman. He was a journalist named Clark Kent, and you were angry that his disguise was so simple yet it worked. You had begged and pleaded to leave, for him to let you go home but his response was it was

 _“I can protect you better here baby.”_ Or _“you need time to adjust to your new home.”_ The best so far has been _“we can’t bond if you aren’t here with me.”_

You had tried telling him people would be looking for you but he had settled your ties to the world with quick text messages that contained excuses as to why you couldn’t talk. You didn’t know how to deal with constantly feeling like you were under a microscope so you planned an escape. You waited until he was good and gone for the day, and judging by the landscape, too far to hear you. Dressing yourself in the most unsuspecting clothing you could and since you were unable to find your purse or anything you settled for in your life, some bottles of water in an old backpack and just bolted out the door. You look to the sky to see if you can see him anywhere hovering but thankfully he doesn’t appear, so you start walking along the dirt road, grateful that the sun wasn’t too bad, the but overcast made you nervous about rain and finding shelter because there wasn’t much in the way of tall coverage. Your feet hurt as you finally reach a gas station/truck stop. You were so tired and thirsty that you were content to just sit In a booth in the corner. You ignore the puzzled looks as the few patrons take a second to take in how disheveled you look and how there is no mode of transportation for you to have gotten there other than your feet.

After a few moments with your head down on the table, you hear

 _“Can I get you something sweetheart?”_ You look up with a sad smile on your face and shrug, mind praying she doesn’t send you out of here, while you come up with your next plan..

_“Honestly all I can afford is water.”_

She looks you over again with sad eyes and nods. She extends her kindness when she brings your water along with a burger and fries.

 _“On the house.”_ She says with a wink that moves the lines of her face slightly. You are more than grateful for the meal and a reason to stay in one place. Even with being paranoid at being in one spot, the rain outside that just started made you glad for safety.

Before you eat, you figured you needed to alert someone, anyone of your loved ones that you were not okay. You ramble around in your brain and come up with your friend’s number; you know the one that let you leave her house and almost get attacked but at least she had a car and would be the most likely to believe that you hadn’t been okay since no one had seen you since that night. An old payphone is housed by the restroom and you scurry to it, keeping your head down. You were dialing with your back to the rest of the room when you heard the familiar soft voice that had fooled so many.

_“Hi m’am…I am sorry to bother you. I am looking for my girlfriend. Folks told me they saw her come in here.”_

Your heart feels like it stopped even though you know it’s going a mile a second.

He’d found you.

Why in the fuck didn’t you call for help as soon as you got inside?

 _“Because who was going to believe that America’s nicest alien was going to kidnap you?”_ That’s why, a little voice echoes in your head.

_“Son you seem like a nice boy and all but if we are thinking about the same girl she’s gone, left here with some trucker about an hour ago.”_

You heard the kind waitress lie for you and you slip into the women’s bathroom, eyes shifting as you look for an escape route before he figures out you are still there. You look up to the old window that was just big enough for you to get out of and maybe where you could find a trucker to quickly get you out of there. You’d call for help in the next town or if they had a phone once you were far enough away, you could use it. The old latches on the window are hard to get open but after a minute you are able to force them open, tossing your backpack out first and then shimming yourself through it. You are barely out when lifted to your feet and a scream is muffled by a large hand over your mouth.

Of course he’d get you. It was child’s play for him to find you. A literal game of hide and seek that you’d always lose. You begin to cry at the enraged look on his face, how electric blue his eyes looked staring into your own, one that you hadn’t seen but now you’ve broken one his many rules for you and

_“I am taking you home and we are going to discuss your punishment once we get there.”_

He moves to yank you up against his chest with one arm and other leaves your mouth to go behind your neck tightly. Then he takes off, the rain and the lack of people outside enough cover for him to fly across the sky without his suit.

When you make it home in a matter of minutes you realize how pitiful your escape had been. Hours of walking amounted to seconds of flying for him. He moves your hold to hoist you over his shoulder and something snaps in you as you begin to shout and scream, all while making pointless slaps at his back and kicking. Of course it’s all pointless, but he grips his hold around your waist slightly tighter and then he pops you on your butt like a spoilt child. It stings in its aftermath and you yelp, as your kicking and hitting stops.

_“Stop it. You are only making your punishment worse.”_

He’d never hit you before. While mild, it shifts the whole tone of the moment. For some reason you’d been holding out hope that the Superman you’d seen on TV, the rest before he died, the kindness he seemed to exude, to come back to the surface, but it seemed like an impossible dream now.

He passes your room, then to his room all the way to a room at the end of the lengthy hallway. He is now holding you single hands sly, and fishes something from his pocket. You can’t see but gather it’s a key once you hear the lock jingle and the key turn. He steps inside of the darkened room, it’s curtains the type to cancel all light and the interior lighting is dimmed down to almost nothing.

Clark sits you on the bed that took up most of the room and you take note the black sheets made the bed seem even more vast. You foolishly try to scramble from it but his hand latches around your ankle to keep you on the bed. He flips you quicker than you can think and puts you over his knee, ripping the dirty jeans off your body and your underwear follow, leaving stinging in its wake and you try your damnedest to pull away but Superman doesn’t let you move. He has pinned you to his knees, and no amount of moving is going to change that as fear runs through your veins like ice, and your chest pounds ruggedly in fear. He doesn’t even give you time to beg forgiveness, just strikes his hand coming down for the first time, then over and over against your bare flesh until you have tears streaming down your face. Your cheeks were red and burning and not the ones on your face. You knew that was barely a fraction of what he could do to you and you were terrified.

 _“Do you know why daddy had to punish you?”_ He asks and pulls you upright again, and into a cradle hold. Shaking like a leaf in the breeze, you knew to avoid another spanking you had to feed into the delusion.

_“I ran away.”_

Your voice is small but it makes no difference with his hearing, he just lets you have your hands over your wet face, tucked into his firm chest. His hands are running over your back in what is supposed to be a soothing gesture but it terrifies you more.

_“I hate that I had to do this so soon. You’ve been such a good girl up until now, but you put yourself in danger. Do you know how many women who are hurt by those with the worst intentions. I just want to protect you and love you.”_

He sits you on the bed and you stay in a ball too afraid of his reaction to do anything else, but as the drawers of the dresser open behind your back you silently question what was next. It was amazing how quickly he moved because he was on the bed again just as quickly as he’d left, his woodsy scent immediately surrounding you again, and you try to will it all away as you wish this was all some nightmare that had an ending. You hear the click of a cap opening and the yelp you give breaks the silence of the room thus far. It was cold but smooth.

_“Shhhh…shhhh my love relaxes. It’s just some cream to help after your spanking.”_

His hands warm the cream and he massages it in, and you begrudgingly start to relax from having been tensed up. You’d regretted staying tensed up this long because now you were aching, still sniffling because you needed to blow your nose from having cried so hard. Clark doesn’t stop at just your bum, but moves to your thighs that took a few hits as well. The more you relax the less your mind races.

_“I wish you would just trust that I know what’s best for you. I am the only one who can love you like this.The way you deserve. I just want to make every day your best day because you won’t have to worry about anything. You could be happy here if you just allow yourself to be.”_

He sounds almost sad that you won’t just give it. Just admit that you feel something for him, but you couldn’t. There was nothing, and now even after this how could you?”

_***undetermined time passes*** _

If you thought your lockdown had been strict before. Well that was now the understatement of the century. Clark was hard pressed to let you do anything that could lead to you leaving. He used to let you watch TV to keep up with the world, do your own online ordering for groceries, even let you pick out clothes from time to time, but ever since your break out attempt his reins were ironclad. He installed cameras, he even made a schedule to keep you busy. He said the only way you would learn how to be a good wife and supportive partner to him would be to make sure his food was prepared everyday for all three meals, you hand washed almost any and all of his clothing, and what little he’d left you to wear.

Oh yes. The loss of underwear and exchanged for sleeping in only his shirts, and olden style dresses during the day. He wanted to step you all the way back to the 50s and yes you raised against the process. Even lost the privilege of privacy when it came to your room. 

You woke up one day sleeping in his bed and all of the furniture in your previous holdings were gone.

 _“I want to sleep next to my soulmate”_ is all he said. Every night he climbed in boxer clad only.

You earned punishment during your loss of agency and as you watched old movies and tv shows of his choosing (not the ones with bad language or questionable morals) you could feel yourself falling into what he wanted. You were teetering on the edge of losing your mind and losing yourself completely. Days blurred and it all felt the same. The only solace you had was sitting on a porch swing, that admittedly had a camera on it that was motion activated so he knew when you moved on the porch. You would pretend it wasn’t there as you cried and wished for anything but this, as your looked at nothing but a tree line view.

If this was what having a soulmate was about, you didn’t want it. You swung in pity until night fell and you realized that Clark must be off doing some daring do and wouldn’t be home soon.

You felt sick at the amount of relief that you felt from not having to greet him with a peck of the cheek, or serve him his dinner. Listen to him talk about his day, all while threatening you with talk about his plans to ‘take time off and expand the house for when the little ones come.’

It all made your stomach roll but the unspoken rule was that you didn’t need to wait up for him on nights like tonight.

It was a relief when you didn’t have to rush through a shower and get into bed before he could see you in the little clothing. You got to take a slightly longer shower, a bit more than perfunctory and you got to pretend you were back at your apartment, getting ready for bed, cutting on the latest of your favorite show, maybe even a glass of wine. You were also able to have time to yourself while in the shower because he kept no cameras in there.

It had been a while since you had this time to yourself and you hated to admit you still had urges. You missed your own body and hands, you knew it wouldn’t take you long considering your current state of arousal.

It almost crept out of nowhere but you weren’t going to question it, wanting to feel anything that would free you from the grips of depression, if only for a moment.

Your hands glide over your collarbone, gently, remembering old flames lips, as you pretend you could feel their hands gliding over your nipples that hardened under the water. Your celebrity crush pops into your head as you settle on a scene of romance and spontaneity. A few moments later you are working your fingers over your lower lips and biting the bottom of the ones on your face. You wait until you feel your wetness just enough that it’s not painful as you slide a finger into your own body. You moan out and let your finger work. You are so lost you hear the door open to the house, not the bedroom nor the bathroom.

_“I knew you’d be waiting like this here for me tonight.”_

You yelp in surprise, faced with Clark standing in full Superman regalia looking at your nude body as if he were a starving man in a desert, and you were the buffet.

_“Holy Hell… what are you doing?”_

You say letting go of your chest that you grabbed in your fear. You look around for your towel but it’s missing. He is just staring at you and his gaze is freaking you out.

“Umm…I am tired…I need a towel…”

You started rambling as you used your hands to cover your chest and private areas that he hadn’t seen though it seemed redundant at this point. His wolffish gaze gets stronger and you foolishly decide it’s easier to try and run past him to get your own clothes.

It doesn’t work.

He grabs you around the waist catching you as you try to move past, holding him to you as you push against his chest, trying to ignore the way his is clearly hard against your stomach.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt it before, you wake up everyday with it poking you in the back, but today it seems like a threat, a promise to do to you something you were fighting against.

_“Clark please let me go.”_

He just laughs and hoists you across his shoulder. Seeing as the bed is not far he is tossing you onto it.

_“Wait please… don’t.”_

He strips out of his suit, revealing his chest and body covered in that familiar dark, coarse hair. An angry reddish purple cock surrounded by that same dark thatch of hair. Your heart is racing and you are terrified. He is over you in a moment, his lips on your neck as you come to realize what you had been fighting against was happening.

_“Don’t fight this sweetheart, I am here to make you feel good. I am your soulmate, and I knew the solstice would have an effect over you. I can smell how wet you are.”_

One hand of fingers trail down your sternum until they are sliding through the left over wetness from you touching yourself. He thinks it’s for him. Gasping, you grab at his shoulder, his lips are warm, and you hate how he is able to tease you back into arousal. It was a simple matter of body chemistry, but Clark was taking it as a guarantee of your wanted involvement.

_“Clark please don’t do this. I…I don’t”_

_“Shhh shhhh love just relax and let me do all the work.”_

With those honeyed words he slides his own two fingers into you which are much thicker than you own. His head is dipping down between your legs, your thighs can’t move and you immediately try to buck him off again, seizing up at the intense feeling but it’s pointless. Clark keeps one free hand on your abdomen, so you are forced to feel all of his attentions. He pulls his face back from your body, lips coated in your wetness, black hair slightly unkempt from flying and he is starting to grow his end of day stubble.

_“Listen we’ve been through this. Tonight is the night that we have been waiting on. This is the moon that is most potent for our people. Fertility is at an all time high and it is time we consummate our bond.”_

You cry out with a sharp almost yelp, at realization at his plans but Clark is a man possessed he doesn’t care. He just works his fingers in and out, a thumb that swirls around your clit in tandem, until you reluctantly fall of the edge against your will, tears fall that he licks off your face like you were some sort of odd delicacy, before thrusting himself into your warm cavern with a groan. You yelp in pain because despite the orgasm he is still much bigger than you ever had. He grunts deeply next to your ear, then raises his hands to the backs of your thighs. Nipping at your neck, he bites your breast, his white teeth instantly leaving a raised imprint along the top. You feel the burn and sting of the bite, along with the burn of accommodating his large frame between your legs. He is bending you up like a pretzel, allowing his thrusts to get deeper and you are fighting off feeling anything but disgust for him, however your body has other plans.

_“You feel so good. My mate.”_

His voice is deeper, more course as he doesn’t lean over you anymore, settling on his haunches, and reaching up to squeeze at your breasts as they jiggled with his thrusts. Teasing the nipples with a tweak and then pull, you don’t respond, your eyes are closed so you can pretend you were anywhere but here.

He tosses his own head back for a moment but then as he looks at you He doesn’t like that you aren’t giving him your full attention, a hand grasps your chin. He wants you fully immersed in what he is doing to you.

_“Look at me.”_

He demands and you refuse, but he just grabs your face harder until you have no choice but to open your eyes. He looks every bit the arc-angel, a halo of black hair, beautifully sculpted chest, glistening with sweat as he works in and out of your walls. Call it Stockholm if you must but the feeling combined with the sight of him makes you clench up around his steel like flesh. It shouldn’t feel this good, but it doesn’t.

_“There you go. Gods I watched you for so long, dreaming about this moment. How good you’d feel. How good I’d make you feel.”_

_“Mine.”_

You are against this whole thing, conflicted on whether or not you want this to end. Your body Knows what your mind doesn’t because it catches you off guard by spazzing it’s orgasm all over the mountain of the man. This means he is even more animalistic, yanking himself out of your body, turning you on to your hands and knees, and thrusting back inside. At this point he is too far gone to worry about your pleasure. He only sees to his own, but yours is by default. He was not a dirty talker by nature, so he mostly grunts, but even those sound like a man possessed. You are a jumble of emotions wishing that this wasn’t happening but trying so desperately wanting to fall over that edge again.

_“Oh fuck…”_

You hear yourself say and it earns you smack on your bottom, but it doesn’t scare you like it didn’t, and Clark likes how it makes you clench around his cock so he does it again.

_“Oh my naughty girl likes being spanked. I might have to find a new punishment for you. Maybe just stopping…”_

You are shaking your head no, even as he gets a firm grip in your hair, beastly instincts taking over his brain because at this point it’s too close to quit now. He has to chase that feeling. Kal-El has to know where this leads to because it’s never been this amazing before. He gets deeper and at this point the blunt reddened head of his cock is close to tapping on your cervix. The borderline of pain and pleasure is so thin that you fall over, cumming all over the bed in wet, tight ecstasy that runs through your veins and he follows you swiftly after no longer able to hold off.

_“Ugh…so good. All mine.”_

He says again and you feel his release coating your walls. That feeling makes you snap back into reality. You hadn’t been on birth control for months.

_“Oh I certainly think we made a baby tonight.”_

He sounds so content, even sweet. You can almost imagine this was a tender moment that was planned and maybe in some alternate universe you were happy that you were making a child.

You are sore, defeated, shocked as he positions a small pillow underneath your hips to tilt you so none of him spills out. He starts rubbing at your arm and hair gently. All traces of the monster gone as he comforts you still happily nude.

_“Just to be sure…”_ He says with a syrup voice.

You cry yourself to sleep because you realize that this is it. All hope of being free again fades as his seed settles into your womb. It’s an odd duality of feeling your will fade combined with a warm settling in your chest of being content at being like this with him forever, was this what a soulmate was supposed to feel like? No one had ever explained it like this. It was supposed to be sweet, soft, not forced.

You feel bound to him in an annoying way, because this was new. You didn’t like it. Sex had never made you this content with life. It didn’t seem fair. Bound to a man with kink for kidnapping, a dark side that no one would ever see but you.

In his mind you officially belong to Clark Kent, Kal, son or Jor, house of El. His forever for all eternity and the love you two share will be the foundation for your new family.

In your mind the last bit of you just died as the matching crescent moon shaped mark appears on your wrist…

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: HEY WORLD! So this is really one of my first forays into Dark fiction and I had to start with the known sweetheart honey-bun lol Honestly, truthfully, tell me what you think. I love feedback , also constructive criticism so let me know…


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